


Strawberry-Blonde Revenge

by sassygaycastiel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassygaycastiel/pseuds/sassygaycastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Peter did to Lydia was horrifying, and things wouldn't be settled for her unless she got her own vengeance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberry-Blonde Revenge

“Lydia, you can’t do this.”

She was dragging Peter by his heel through the ruins of the Hale house, and he was covered in bleeding wounds. It was cold, dark, and her breath escaped in vapors through her nose. She stared ahead, unaffected by his pleading. After watching Derek do half the work for her, making sure Peter was too bruised and battered to escape, she made sure she would be the one to finish him.

She had to be; she felt that nothing else would suffice.

She wouldn’t forgive him for the insanity he put her through, and she felt  _she_  was the one who deserved to put him through death’s doorstep. She was clueless about why it was  _her_  mind that he needed, and why she was “immune” to this bite, but nonetheless, he took advantage of her. He took a perfectly innocent human being and forced her into things she would never do with her own will. He forced her to bring back the one person she would never want to see again; He was the one person who terrified her beyond what she ever thought she could feel.

And he deserved what was coming.

They arrived at the place where it all began. She would bring his fate in the same place where he renewed his hope. She let him go, leaving him in the very place where he was resurrected. He was groaning, trying hard to move, but his wounds were too deep. He wouldn’t be able to heal fast enough and escape his inevitable demise.

“Lydia, st-” Peter said.

“No,” Lydia replied, cutting him off. “I didn’t get a chance to say no to what you did to me, and I don’t think you should either.”

She turned to him, and pulled a black pistol out from a holster on her belt-loop. She held it up with her unsteady hands. She tried to keep her breathing even in attempts to calm herself. Peter watched her, laughing at her fear.

“After all I’ve done for you, this is what you’re going to give me? Don’t you-“

 _After all he’d done for her?_ Her anger became her fuel. Quickly overcoming her fear, she pulled the trigger, and the sound of the fire burst through the air, masking his words. The first bullet hit his right leg, causing it to jerk roughly, and immediately after, she aimed at the other leg, and fired again. The area where the bullets were embedded radiated a bright blue aura. He looked down at his legs, and gave a nervous chuckle, trying not to act surprised. 

She had a mission, and she wasn’t going to fail.

“Where did you find these?” he asked.

“I know people.”

She kneeled down beside him, digging in her jacket pockets while he groaned from his new injuries.

“I was there for you, Lydia,” he said, his voice low and breathy. “I was there when no one else was. I was truly looking out for you. I valued your safety, unlike your ‘friends’. They left you in the dark, all alone and confused.”

She pulled out a round, silver canister, looking similar to a smoke-bomb. She set it just out of his reach, and he watched her; he finally looked worried.

“You can’t just leave me like this, Lydia.”

“Sure, I can.”

She pushed a button on the canister, and the two ends separated, releasing a purple gas. Peter started coughing, and he tried shifting his way over to the gas can. Before he could get close to it, Lydia fired at his arm, immobilizing it. She shot his other arm as well, knowing he could just as easily use that one for the same purpose.

Her eyes were cold, with no fear or remorse for what she was doing. She looked into Peter’s eyes, seeing more than pain. She saw panic, hopelessness; he was terrified.

“Please stop, darling. Don’t…”

“Shut up. You did this to yourself. I don’t feel sorry for you, creep. You made me out to be some psycho running naked in the woods. Ever since you snuck into my life, you’ve just made it a living hell. You deserve this.”

“But, Lydia. Just listen to me…”

She was done listening; she owed him nothing. As he pleaded for his life, she walked out of the room and out of the house. Her bottom lip quivered as she exited the building, and tears rolled down her rosy cheeks.

It was over. The fear of seeing things she didn’t understand was gone. She would no longer see horrifying things created by a sinister spirit in her head. She would no longer end up in places she didn’t recognize, frightened and confused as to how she ended up there. She would no longer endanger her friends because of her instability. 

She was free.


End file.
